Mission: Code Ghost
by Abyme
Summary: Deryn Keloers has managed to infiltrate the Special Elite of the First Order. Suspected of subterfuge, she got away. She is ready to sacrifice her life to protect the information that she has collected, vital to the Resistance, but her droid has other plans in mind. It sends a distress signal to general Organa who put Poe Dameron in charge of the rescue mission of the Agent Ghost.
1. Chapter 1

_**This is the first fic that I wrote in english. If there are (and I'm pretty sure there would be) grammar errors, incorrect expressions, etc., please tell me! =)**_

 _ **And please review... ;-)**_

* * *

 **Prelude**

 **32 after the Battle of Endor**

If taverns, casinos and nightclubs were commonplace in Coruscan's Underworld, the illegally organized fighting games were less so. Therefore, when set in motion, these games were run by all that Coruscant had of gangsters, smugglers, bounty hunters and criminals of any quality in addition to the ordinary citizens, who came there to seek their dose of strong emotions, and maybe make some money in (hopefully) well placed bets.

When Deryn Keloers enrolled herself in the Arena Games of the Lower levels, she knew that there was no turning back for her. It was fighting of the highest caliber, involving participants from all species, without fear and without mercy, extremely gifted in this item. Two fights on five ended with the death of one of the opponents. She feared neither death nor pain, but she was aware that one of these fighters could be more gifted, stronger and faster than her. In reality, she was convinced that there was more than one, but she couldn't allow doubting herself. She had to win these games. For this, she therefore had to rely on her know-how, her strength, her speed and her acute mind to achieve this. She could only rely on herself.

Looking back at the last six months, she thought that she had performed well enough : of the 22 opponents that she had faced 4 were now cold. Out of these 22 battles, she had lost only three. Conscious of the role she was to play, she had strategically lost these fights, picking opponents that she considered sufficiently credible for it to pass for a momentary weakness on her part, without damaging the reputation she had built. She had become a darling among the fans. Her physical appearance that had been so deserving to her at the beginning of the tournament, because she was a beautiful small fragile thing, those aspects were now the emblem of her strength and of her genius. Her supporters spoke of her beauty, proud that their favorite was not an ugly lice as some other fighters were.

Deryn didn't care what they thought of her. Her physical appearance was only a tool like her blaster, or her fists. She used it when it could be useful. She had only one goal in mind and she never lost sight of it. Once it is reached, the second part of the plan would deploy and she would have another role to play. Until this moment, she was focusing her energies on the combats, and offered herself no distraction.

Rakun – the one who had facilitated the path for her up to the Arena – had numerous opportunities to ask himself if the young woman was not a little bit crazy to fight in the Arena. She risked her skin each time. For him, Deryn Keloers was a courageous young woman, determined, clever and with an extraordinary ability to adapt to every circumstances life throws at her. He believed that her talents would be better used anywhere than in this slaughter!

Eight months earlier, when she came to see him and ask him to push her registration for the Arena Games of the Lower levels of Coruscant, he choked on his corellien rum of twenty years of age, thus losing a precious sip of this expensive alcohol. Sadly for him, it was only the beginning of his amazement, because for Deryn, the Games were just a way to get noticed and hired by Etuh Samwell, a crime lord. He had protested, saying that if this was her wish, there were others ways to get to Samwell: he could recommend her to a friend of a friend who spawned in the circles of this crime lord. She had flatly refused, claiming that she wanted to go there incognito, but he did not push the subject any further. It was well-known that Samwell recruited among the fighters of the Arena Games, and Deryn knew that, soon, he would be in dire need of bodyguards. She wanted to be the person responsible for his safety. Rakun asked her about her motivations, trying again to make her change idea, but in the end, Deryn struck him the coup de grace by citing his blood debt to her. A Cathar never forgets a debt, especially a blood debt. Resigned, he had accepted and Deryn had assured him that this would erase his debt in full, but if he blew a word of this to anyone, she would consider that he had betrayed their agreement, what was worst of all for a Cathar. It was the ultimate threat and Rakun suspected, with reason, that Deryn didn't say everything. He sealed his promise in his own blood. Deryn lectured him then the terms of the contract.

He found that the exchange was not fair, but he had promised. While she fought and won almost all her fights, Rakun wisely placed his pawns in order to put the plan of Deryn in place. Today, after all these months of shenanigans and manipulations, he had reached the goal.

He went to find Deryn, who was sitting alone in a corner of the stinky locker room, the eve of the final battle of the Arena Games. She only had one fight to win this evening and she will be in the championship.

She looked up at his arrival, her face expressionless, but Rakun knew her well enough now to know that this was only a facade. Over the months, they had developed what could be called a strange friendship.

"Samwell wants you," he said simply.

She stayed without saying anything for long seconds.

"Thank you Rakun."

Outside the locker room, Rakun stopped, feeling bad. What has he just done?

Under the acclaimed name of Miri Goya, Deryn won her fight that night and passed in the final championship in the Arena Games of the Undercity of Coruscant.

...

At the arena the next day, Deryn felt feverish, nervous, and slightly melancholic. She had not had her droid with her for several months now and she missed him dearly. Her BB unit had the gift of making her laugh and distracting her, but it was precisely which she did not need at this time. BB2 would have to wait.

The locker room was deserted, because there would only be one fight tonight, hers versus Par Qofa, a terrifying Weequay whose name alone makes his formers adversaries shudder in terror. "The ones alive, of course ", she added to herself. The echo of her laugh went crashing into the walls, making her feel how really alone she was. While sitting on the bench that ran along a gray wall, encrusted with dirt, she pulled out of her pocket her communicator which she held in her hand a long time. Nobody expected her anywhere. She already said goodbye to the only person who knew exactly in what kind of adventure she was getting into.

She put her comm back in her bag with a non-audible sigh. She wished that she could be afraid, worried, anything beside the loneliness that she felt.

A half-hour before the start of the fight, Rakun came into the locker room, wearing a golden jacket so bright that she had to cover her eyes to look at him.

"Are you challenging the sun now?" she asked him smiling weakly.

She was a little queasy, to tell the truth and had lost her usual bite.

Rakun, noticing it, took place beside her on the bench, a concerned expression on his face.

"Will you be ok?"

"Of course!" she lied with a big smile.

Rakun was not fooled by her apparent happiness, but dodged the topic entirely, feeling that it will go nowhere. It was not the first time that he didn't dare engaging in conversation with her.

"I just have to survive this battle!" she exclaimed, joyfully as if the perspective of getting killed was just like any other thing that she did every day. For all he knew, that may well be the case.

Rakun threw her a puzzled look. He never got her kind of humor. He had to admit, Deryn was the most beautiful singular woman that he had ever encountered.

Seeing that Rakun will not share her joke, she pouts: she felt so misunderstood! Rakun got up and she stood up with him. He clasped her in his arms and wished her good luck. Deryn found that it was really a farewell. Or a dead sentence. She didn't know which of the two was the more sinister.

"You are alone from now on," he said to her.

"I am. Thank you again Rakun. And... Rakun? May the Force be with you!"

Rakun shook his head and came out of the locker room without adding anything more. The door slammed shut on him in silence, and Deryn was left definitely and utterly alone.

When she arrived on the outskirts of the arena, the arena was plunged in total darkness. She heard the murmurs of the crowd, but it remained invisible to her eyes. She remembered the arena, the spotlights turned on the fighters, and the nameless faces, excited, thirsty for blood, crashing against the walls of wire mesh that were lost in the heights of the arena.

This was the point of no return. She will win or she will die.

In the stands, Rakun was there watching, praying to the Source of all life to let her win. Elsewhere, far away, on a base that she didn't expect to see again in her life, was the person at the head of the cause to which she had sworn allegiance to: the general of the Resistance, Léïa Organa. She asked the Force to guide her in all things, and stepped into the light.

In the dim light of the Arena, in the middle of the excited supporters, the scent of alcohol and the peculiar smell of the Lower levels – a mix of old oil and recycled air – the agent Kris Pivun of the Resistance, under the guise of a bounty hunter, was waiting for the fight to begin. The crowd thronged around him without ever touching him, as if something in his demeanor was sending the clear message to stay the hell away.

Around him, the thrilled whispering of the spectators were increasing, rising in crescendo with the imminent arrival of the fighters. The atmosphere was febrile, nervous. He let his gaze wander over the faces tense with anticipation next to him and was surprised to feel the same tension, the same contagious pleasure.

A light appeared suddenly in the center of the arena, making the crowd roar. Deryn stepped forward into the light and greeted the people sitting in the stands. Exalted cheers broke out from all sides. Kris felt more than he saw the lust, the adulation and the envy, directed toward Deryn.

She was not the favorite, but she had managed to gain the sympathy of several supporters. When Qofa came into the light a few moments after her, the shouts and screams of the spectators filled the square, in a deafening cacophony.

Qofa shot her an indifferent look, as if she did not really deserve to be his opponent in spite of her many victories. Everything in his attitude said how confident he was that he will take only a bite out of this human, but that was part of the character, and Kris wasn't too worried about it. He knew what Deryn was capable of and had total confidence in her.

As for Deryn, she was nervous, a little bit frightened and at the same time absurdly confident. It was ridiculous of course. She had to face and fight the Weequay, the champion of five titles in a row of the illegal games of the Lower levels of Coruscant. She could almost see what Par Qofa saw when he looked at her : a human woman at the beginning of her thirties, athletic, certainly, but fragile, so fragile with her beautiful face, in which glowed two topaz colored eyes, and from which seemed to emanate a certain vulnerability.

Vulnerable was not in her vocabulary, but if that's what he wanted, she will give him that. It was to her to play her part well.

The referee rang the bell, signaling the start of the fight and retired to a corner away from the main center. The referee was only there to ring the bell for each round. This was the full extent of his implication in the match till the end of it. Then, he will announce the winner. The defeated will not be spoken of.

The Weequay walked towards her, with a very confident pace, his dark eyes assessing her peacefully, without fear, because, what does he has to fear in this little girl?

They made the tour of the arena by looking at each other. Deryn took a good look at the Weequay: he had a thick skin, difficult to penetrate and which was able to put up with punches over a long period of time. He wore a leather jacket whom, rumor has it, had been cut into the skin of a very dead former opponent.

She swung and throws her right foot where the stomach of the Weequay should be. Qofa grabbed her foot and sent her flying through the fence. Collapsing to the ground, Deryn gnashed her teeth in shock, but stood up quickly. She decided it was time for a counter-attack type punches in chest-jaw. Despite the muffled growl he let escaped, he did not seem disturbed in the least by her blows. He stepped toward her, quiet, focused, and struck her in the jaw. A creaking thumping was heard despite the ruckus of the place. The blow made her step back and the taste-ferrous blood filled her mouth. She spat to the ground and tried to insert some terror into her look when she glanced back at him. The attentive eyes could see that she was looking at him with a cold calculation. In the following minutes, Deryn received a rain of blows, both to the stomach and the face. Her eyes were swollen, her mouth was bloodied. Her vision was becoming fuzzy quickly. The crowd was silent as it was seeing her face appears on the only screen in the place.

Deryn eluded the next few blows, watching her opponent moves between them. In her head, nor fear nor doubts. Her mind was quiet as she sensed the weaknesses of Par Qofa. It was useless to try to attack him on his vital organs; those were well protected by his thick skin. She decided to let him approach.

Qofa grabbed and pushed her to the ground where he struck her multiple times in the face. Deryn, feeling her face growing warm and wet from the loss of blood, put her arms flat on the floor, raised her pelvis and wrapped her legs around Qofa in a deathly grip. Then she grabbed the bottom of his shirt and lifted it up to his neck. Swiftly, she twisted the ends of the sweater that she brought to the front around his neck and tightened. Qofa tried to get free but he was caught in her legs and the air was beginning to fail him. He struck her again in the face, but she did not cede nor looked like he was doing anything to her. His bulging eyes stare at her, terrified. He tried to bring his hands to his neck, but he did not have enough space. Deryn was maintaining him to close to her. She accentuated her twist on the shirt and the face of Par Qofa turned blue after a few seconds. After what felt like an eternity, his tongue came out of his mouth and a gurgling sound escaped from him, then nothing. The referee approached them and checked on Qofa. He pulled him from her and helped her got up.

Pae Qofa was dead.

The referee then raised her arm, marking her as the winner of the Arena Games of Coruscant's Undercity.

Kris Pivun wore his comm to his mouth and said :

« She's in. »


	2. Chapter 2 - Rescue Operation

For perhaps the fifth time in as many minutes, Poe Dameron made the grand tour of his X-wing T-70, skimming his hand on the engine in a reassuring gesture that reminded him of his mother. She used to do the same thing with her old A-wing, back at home when he was little. BB8 was following him, whistling softly an old tune that he hummed himself often. He was beginning his sixth round when a young man by the name of Kev stood before him and blocked the way.

"Hey Kev!" said Poe happily. "What's up buddy?" "General Organa asked to see you," said Kev in a very solemn manner. Poe thought that Kev was taking things very seriously, perhaps too much. Each small task was a mission of the utmost importance and Poe asked himself if he happened to have fun sometimes. Anyway, he never saw him when the core members would gather to celebrate or just took some time off, chilling with a drink. "That's ok! I'm going! You wait for me here BB8?"

The droid beeped in the affirmative and Poe, thanking Kev in passing, took the path that led to the General Léïa Organa.

He greeted a few people, shared some jokes with others, and then came to the open door of the General, who, as soon as she heard his step, invited him to enter. She waved him to close the door, which he did immediately.

She was standing in front of a screen projecting twinkling stellar maps. There was a concern wrinkle on her forehead and she was so absorbed in what she was doing, that Poe thought that if it has not been for the welcome that she greeted him upon his arrival, he would have doubted she even knew that he was in the room with her.

He waited patiently for the General to speak first. After what seemed an eternity, the General finally detached her gaze from the screen to observe Poe, who stood straight, on the lookout. This was not the first time that he had the clear impression that the General saw in him as in an open book. He wondered what she saw, because he himself would have liked to know what was in his head at this very moment.

"What would you say about a rescue mission Poe?"

"Anything you want General!" he replied enthusiastically. Maybe too enthusiastically.

To tell the truth, he no longer held in place. It had been nearly two months since he and his X-wing had flown in an actual mission. The daily surveillance operations were not enough to keep him and his squadron entertained and he was beginning to feel bored. And to think that this had been his life before entering the ranks of the Resistance, less than a year ago!

Léïa continued without further ado:

"We received a distress call from our undercover agent in the First Order."

Poe tried his best to hide his surprise. He did not yet know everything about the Resistance and though he didn't doubt that the General Organa has full confidence in him, he didn't know all her secrets. He was only a pilot after all, a very excellent one, but he was not privy to everything that was going in the Resistance. He waited the rest in silence, while she began to tap on her datapad. An identification sheet was displayed on the screen and Poe whistled in admiration. It was a woman, stunningly beautiful, tall, with long brown thick hair that fells in undulating waves on her shoulders. Her posture was defiant and her eyes of amber glowed with such intensity that Poe asked himself if the photographer who took her picture had managed to recuperate from that burning fire he saw in her eyes. The General was watching him with a little smile and when he became aware of her gaze on him, he felt the warm invading his face. He apologized for his behavior, embarrassed of his improper display in front of the General. He didn't mean to be disrespectful.

"Deryn Keloers often has this effect on the male population," she said, smiling with indulgence. "She takes no pride in her appearance, however. For her, it is a tool, the same way as her blaster."

Poe agreed inwardly that she didn't seem the type to wear her beauty like a crown, but as a weapon, a very dangerous weapon. He brought back his gaze on Deryn Keloers and remembered that the General had spoken of a rescue mission.

"It's been almost two years since she has infiltrated the enemy ranks. The last I heard, she had infiltrated the Special Elite XT of Captain Serven Tresh. She told us that she was on the track of something very big, but since we are without news from her. It has been almost five months. Then, an hour ago, we received her distress call, transmitted by her droid. "

His curiosity was piqued.

"What is the Special Elite XT? Do you know where agent Keloers is?"

Léïa walked up to the screen and tapped again on her datapad. The stellar map of an unknown system appeared.

"We don't really know anything about the Special Elite XT," the General admitted. "In all likelihood, it is a secret corps. Even in the First Order, few people know of its existence. "

Poe meditated on this information for a few moments before focusing on the map that the general had displayed. He waited for her to continue.

"The message signal seems to come from there," she said, pointing to a spot on the map. "According to the latest data we received from Deryn, it would be Merrick sector. The only planet listed in this sector is Vetine."

Poe felt overwhelmed by agitation. His mother visited this place in Luke Skywalker's company to retrieve fragments of the tree sensitive to the Force and a piece of it was growing in the garden of the house of his childhood on Yavin IV. Léïa, of course, knew this part of the history and was waiting for Poe to digest this information before continuing.

"She could be in that location or she may already have changed place. The message was cryptic at best and we weren't able to retrieve more information from it. Her droid seems to speak in code, which I can understand, if she thought that she was discovered. The distress signal was clear, but the rest was all gibberish."

She made him listen to the message several times, in the hope that he would be able to decrypt something that the decryption droids had not been able to extirpate, but Poe nodded sadly, unable to interpret the message from Keloers's droid. Hiding her disappointment, the General turned to the screen, and stared at the stellar map as if she hoped that by staring at it long and hard enough, she would discover something more tangible that could guide them in their research.

"General," Poe said suddenly," what type of droid Keloers has? "

"A BB unit..." She stopped. The General's eyes lit suddenly. "Of course!"

She always says not to doubt droids!

"Maybe BB8 would be able to decipher the code of this BB unit," said Poe. "These BB units are very special."

The general urged him to go seek his droid.

Poe returned to the hangar on the run.

"BB8, you could help us!" he said to his droid when he arrived. "We need you to translate the secret code of a BB unit. Can you do it? "

BB8 let out a stream of interrogatives beeps to which Poe replied:

"I don't know BB8. The General will tell you. "

They arrived at full throttle in the commandments room and the General Organa hurried so she can put the message of BB2 – it was the name of Keloers's droid – in BB8.

The droid began to spin frantically on himself and push joyous little beeps when he heard his elder brother of engineering.

"So, BB8?" Poe asked.

BB8 said that he thought he was capable, but he needed time. A lot of time. At nightfall, BB8 had translated only a small portion of the message. Poe concludes that they were going to spend the night there and decided to go get something to eat. Leïa was immersed in the study of maps and looked up only when he asked her if she wanted him to bring her back a bite from the cafeteria.

"Yes, thank you Poe, that would be nice."

Poe went out in silence. He went to the kitchens where he asked a snack for the General Organa and himself. The chief was so glad to see that someone cared about the Princess and hurried to concoct something that was satisfying and tasty. The cook was maybe the only one in the Resistance, who still dare to call the General, Princess. It made Poe smile.

When he came back, he put down the sandwich that the chef had prepared for Leïa and began to eat his quietly. The beeps of BB8 were the only thing that was disturbing the silence. When Poe reminded her that she had to eat, Leïa took a bite absentmindedly, her gaze still fixed on the maps.

In the early morning, BB8 revealed to them the content of the message. He told them that Keloers feared she has been discovered, that they were currently on Vetine and that she was going to attempt to make BB2 escape so that he can report her information to the Resistance. BB8 added that BB2 suspected that his mistress didn't have any hope of coming back and that she was planning to let him go alone.

"General," Poe said, making his mind up. "I can leave in the next few hours for Merrick sector, but I need some information first."

"Go ahead," she said finally to Poe, who began to bombard her with questions.

A few hours later, Poe Dameron, accompanied by his Black squadron, took off on board of his X-wing to the Merrick sector for a rescue mission for the Resistance special agent, Deryn Keloers.

"Bad idea. Very bad idea!" whispered Deryn Keloers to her astromech BB2. The latter made several discrete beeps.

"I know, I know BB2!" sighed Keloers while flattening her back against the rock.

Then, contorting herself, she threw a quick glance over the stone behind which they were concealed. She crouched down quickly when she saw a silhouette emerge in the forest. This one, devastated by an ancient war, hasn't much to offer in terms of coverage. The skeletal trees stood like dark vigils in the night sky.

She looked at her droid with exasperation when he began to criticize her choice of hiding place.

"You have something else to offer me little genius?"

BB2 indicated that he should think about that for a moment.

"You're such helpful!" she hissed with a sarcastic tone.

The offended beep of BB2 was lost in the burst of indistinct voices that reached them and seemed to move closer and closer by the second. Keloers didn't dare to check on their location again and wondered why she had decided to land on Huk amongst all the planets of the Wild Region!

She attempted to concentrate and find a solution to their precarious situation instead of bashing her head virtually.

Something, some hidden sense, told her that it was time to move.

"BB2! Now!"

They ran both in a frantic race and, a few seconds later, the stone where they were hidden exploded into a thousand fragments.

BB2 desperate beep reaches Keloers who replied in a breathless voice while dodging a shot that went crashing against a tree that took fire instantly:

"To the right! The right!"

She couldn't tell how long they ran at this pace, but she knew that their pursuers were catching up with them: it was only a matter of minutes. The exhaustion was lying in wait for her. The painful beat of her heart was throbbing in her ears; she was hungry and had not slept for more than 72 hours. It was dark and she had only a vague idea where they were heading.

She stumbled on a tree trunk and fell flat on her face, swallowing at the same time a handful of earth that she coughed up. The lack of air combined with the shock made her lose consciousness for a few seconds.

The terrified beeps of BB2 brought her back from the unconsciousness. Deryn resigned herself to the only option that makes sense if she wanted to save what she had discovered: to protect her droid to whom she had entrusted her data. BB2 approached her urgently and knocked her with his metal body urging her to get up and run away.

"BB2, you know our meeting point," she said to him while getting on one knee to get up. She tried to be heard above the racket of the blaster and the Yam'rii's running footsteps that were getting closer and closer. "Leave, I promise that I will come back to you, if I do not, you know what to do."

Sounds of indignation emanated from him, indicating that he did not want to abandon her to the hands of these insects.

BB2 didn't move and seeing that, she added in imperious voice: "Good grief BB2! You'll listen to me! I'll find you I promise! I always come back, you know that! But go away! NOW!" Her voice was raw from the race and the mouthful of earth that she almost choked on a minute ago.

BB2 protested weakly, but obeyed her mistress and fled in the opposite direction.

He turned around just in time to see Deryn being hit by a projectile. He emitted a plaintive sound full of desperation and then ran away toward their meeting point.

When she woke up, Keloers was not able to say how long she had been unconscious. She half-opened an eye to determine where she was and decided that being unconscious was a great idea. The jailer's profile told her that she was a prisoner of the Yam'riis, a race of insectoid who had not the reputation of being friendly to foreigners and even less to their prisoners. Deryn remembered the rules of order when infiltrating the enemy: don't get caught; if you get caught, find a way to get through this and if you don't succeed, kill yourself. Simple isn't it?

The creature must have understood that she had regained consciousness, as it approached her and spoke to her with strident noises that feel exactly like metal tearing itself apart. Her earing suffered because of the excruciating sound, and even more when the creature repeated what seems to be a question.

"I'm sorry, but I don't speak Huk," said Keloers with a defiant smile, knowing full well that she had just insulted the creature. She called it an insect-without-soul, which was the most serious insult a Yam'rii could receive.

It began to wag, visibly angry, approached her and pointed a spear at her throat. She felt the sharp tip of the spear on her tender flesh. Deryn cursed her sharp tongue and thought that she would regret one day braving people like that. Maybe this day would be today. She closed her eyes, waiting to be pierced for real, but nothing happened. She opened one eye only to discover that the creature had retreated and stood a few steps away from her, still holding its spear in a threatening manner, but at some distance.

"Ah! Our prisoner is finally awake! "

Keloers turned her head toward the newcomer that had just talked to her in her own language. He was tall, blond and very human. This was not a Yam'rii, but Serven Tresh, a commander of the First Order, that she had spied on for the last eight months. Tresh and she had been very close, like, physically. When Tresh, who was her superior, made her advances, she had to assess her options quickly. To do or not to do? Tresh was a very handsome, attractive and seductive bastard. This was not the problem. The problem was that there was something very wrong with him. She could feel something very dark in him, something terrible and dangerous. But she said yes and they got involved in an intimate manner. And now she was his prisoner. After having betrayed him. She was in such a mess. An astronomical level mess!

She had a bad feeling about this.

"Oh Miri... or is it another name?" he asked her, leaning towards her with a look that mimicked the tenderness, but anger and powerful stirred in him, so strong that it grab Deryn by the throat.

He caressed her cheek in a falsely affectionate gesture, dragging his gaze over her body. Deryn fought subtly against the handcuffs that kept her in place, without success.

"You know that I often dreamed having you in this position," he murmured.

She felt his eyes wander on her as surely as if it had been his hands. Her eyes were shut, but when she opened them, Tresh was a few inches from her face, and she felt his breath on her eyelashes. His bluish grey eyes gazed at her intensely, as if he could delve into her and discover all that her mind contained. Deryn stared right back at him, confident that she can keep the secrets safely locked up in her brain. Serven was a lot of things, but sensitive to the Force he was not.

His lips landed on hers, to her great surprise, and he kissed her voraciously, biting down hard her lower lip, until a drop of blood bead. She barely held a little cry of pain. He continued kissing her, and Deryn felt her body respond to Tresh's desire. She swallowed, and decided that it was perhaps time to be afraid. He put his two hands on each side of her head, sticking out more against her, and Deryn discovered how happy he was to feel the effect he has on her. She wanted to curse her body, which did not seem to understand that it was supposed to hate this hateful character instead of welcoming him! Her body knew too well the way of his caress

"Did you miss me?"

He wore a carnivorous satisfied expression.

She turned her face away, struggling against the nausea that was rising in her. What if she threw up on him? The idea made her almost joyful, in spite of the fear that finally threatened to take her, for good.

She did not know what he read in her face, but he narrowed his eyes, assessing her. She clenched her teeth as he slide a hand on her left breast. She felt her body arch involuntarily. She could not believe that she had fallen so low!

"You want more huh?"

She mumbled something.

"What?"

"Wait a moment, I think I just threw up in my mouth a little," she said, gulping with force.

Her sentence had the desired effect. He drew back suddenly, a real anger on his face. He punched her in the face.

Pain exploded in her. She could deal with that.

"For whom do you work?"

Ah! He was reasonable at last!

She felt her eye swelling painfully but it did not prevent her to fix a stubborn gaze upon him. She would say nothing and would probably die on this damned chair, but at least he would no more entertain her treacherous body!

A few hours later, he left the room, leaving Deryn bruised in her flesh and soul. She had resisted his interrogation and to his painful methods of persuasion. Even the truth serum had not triumphed over her resistance. It was hard to imagine how to get out of it.

Later in what seemed to be the night, she tried in vain not to sink into sleep, he came to her and spoke to her. He stroked her first with words and then with stealth caresses to which he knew that she responded well and when she began moaning, he questioned her again, alternating between caresses and physical torture.

Half conscious, caught between pleasure and pain, Deryn took the decision not to resist and let her body respond to the different abuse, painful as delicious, that Tresh imposed on her. Since she knew him, he had never used violence on her, but it was always there, latent, flush to the surface of his personality like a bomb ready to explode. Deryn was not afraid of violence. She was able to respond to it, to cope with it. As long as she could exercise her free-will, choose an action or an attitude to have, Deryn knew that she could face anything, overcome everything. Powerlessness terrorized her. Not knowing what to do, being unable to do or say anything, having to hang the head, give up and fail her mission, it was the worst nightmare she could imagine.

She therefore chooses to reply to Tresh, letting her body dictate the following things, so that she can devise a plan, no matter what, to get by.

When he undid her bindings, she let herself go, pressed against him as if she was drunk with desire.

When he thought that she was at his mercy, he began again his interrogation.

Deryn felt bored, but it gave her time to think. She was fooling him by the Stars and thought that somebody should award her with the Best Actress of the Galaxy's trophy because, damn, she was good!

In spite of her determination, her body continued to react to his caresses. She would have loved that this was only a feint, but it was impossible for her to deny the sincere reaction of her body.

Wishing to put an end to the torment that she felt, she exaggerated her moans and saw his gaze darken with desire. It was a thin satisfaction knowing that he has so little control in her presence. A too thin satisfaction given her proper lack of restraint. But a girl must do what she must do. So she let the pleasure built in her.

He pushed up to her limits, or at least that is what she left him to believe. After some time, she detached from her body, becoming a silent observer, horrified to see herself moan and plead for a relief which never came.

At the end, she whispered the name of a pirate who was doing his business in the Inner Edge, and with whom she had dealt before:

"Mak Ji Turu... "

With a sudden movement, he pushed her against the torture chair, a carnivorous smile on his lips – his trademark – he then pushed his pants down, spread her legs and penetrated her with force. Deryn losed control of herself and shouted with pleasure, shame downing on her at the same time as a massive orgasm. Tresh came in turn and maintaining his hands in place, his lips touching hers, he said to her:

"What you say may be true, but I'm not sure. It is time that you meet Kylo Ren. He will be able to see what you do not say."

He retired, pulled up his pants and left the room.

Deryn felt fear twisting her guts. If Ren puts his hands on her, he would know everything about…everything. She could not let this happen. She bent to pick up her clothes while the Yam'riis guards entered the room. They were equipped with spears that they pointed on her and she drew a warning hand saying:

"Hey! Let me the little bit of dignity that I have left!" They retreated a step and watched her clothing herself with an impassive expression, but then, Deryn wouldn't have known which expressions passed on their faces.

In the space of a brief moment, Deryn thought of killing herself. It was her ultimate choice, her last sacrifice to the Resistance. Death was preferable to Kylo Ren. All these secrets in her head would be to him if she were caught. How many lives would be lost because she did not succeed in her mission? Death rather than this!

A nausea took her, more violent than ever, and the memory of the last minutes came back to her with force and she fell to her knees in a corner and vomits everything she had in the stomach, that is to say, not much. The Yam'riis guards spoke to each other while she puked and moved forward towards her when she was done to lift her from the floor. They had the order to bring her to the loading dock. They approached her, their spears pointed toward the ground.

When they were close to her, Deryn acted instinctively and, grasping their lances, used them as a balance to get back on her feet. Pivoting on herself, she swung her foot in the air and stroked the face of the Yam'rii to her left whom staggered under the shock. The other grabbed her from behind and used his spear to get her under control, putting it under her chin. Deryn swung to the rear, hitting the head of the Right-Yam'rii who kept her prisoner, but he stood firm in spite of the sickening creaking sound that she heard. The one she had hit had recovered and was approaching her. She took the opportunity to swing back toward the rear, and sent her legs forward in a pendulum motion and passed them around the neck of the Left-Yam'rii. She quickly evaluated the situation and accentuated the pressure on the neck of Lefty. At the moment his neck broke, she felt him buckle. Her hands gripped on the spear still on her neck. She felt weakened and the spear weighed hard now on her throat, threatening to suffocate her at any moment. In a movement of despair, she leaned forward and was surprised when Right shifted above her. She left him no time to regain his senses and, with a quick gesture of the foot, she stomped on his head multiple times, feeling the fragile bones of the Yam'rii break under her weight. The Yam'rii ceased to shake, it was predictable. She did not linger on the the Yam'rii's distorted remains. She leaned over and grabbed the blasters that were attached to their belts. The blasters were not the Yam'riis's favorite weapon, she remembered. Which explained why they didn't use them against her. Ensuring that the blaster's safety was on, she put one into the waistband of her pants praying not to get shot in the leg in the process. Eying the room, she discovered that she was under no surveillance. Relieved, she fled through the open door and began to run into the corridor, unable to know where the exit was. She stopped and brought attention to her surroundings. This was not an ultra-technological building. If she had been conscious upon her arrival, she would have been able to rely on her memory, but since this was not the case, she should therefore trust her instincts. She turned to the right and regained hope when her nose felt the reach of cool air. At the exit, she met three Yam'riis, who just entered the building. Without hesitation, she shooted her blaster before they even had time to unsheathe. Opening the door, she avoided the Yam'riis's carcasses and went outside. The wind was blowing strong and her breath was cut off by a big gust of wind into the face.

A storm was brewing by the Stars! The ground that also served as a landing strip was practically deserted, with the exception of a few speeder bikes and 3 vessels which were located at the edge of the skeletal forest that stretched to the horizon. Recognizing Tresh's ship, she ran along the building wall, bending the spine to avoid the backlash of the wind, and wondered why the alert had not been given. This was not normal. She arrived to the two vessels belonging to the Yam'riis, opened up the panels where the engines were and fiddled in it for a few seconds, letting the fuel flow down on the ground in a small stream.

Avoiding to dwell on the fact that nobody was at her heels, she entered Tresh's ship and took placed in the pilot's seat. It was a model that dated back to the Empire, a VCX-110, which was normally attached to its main vessel. Asserting the console, she tried to familiarize with it quickly. Pushing some buttons, she heard the engine started and, with a satisfied grin, she ran to sit into the shooting position and, pointing the assault guns on the electrical box that powered the building, she pressed the trigger on. The explosion shocked the ground, and she saw the nearby trees shake as well. Wasting no time, she exploded in turn the other two vessels. In the seconds that followed, she saw the building glow.

Just before taking off, she saw Serven Tresh get out of the building running in a cloud of smoke. He looked up at her, a look of pure rage in his green eyes. She smiled at him and, blowing a mocking kiss at him, she took off.

During that time, the Black squadron searched Vetine, looking for Deryn Keloers.

"Do you get something BB8?" asked Poe his droid. "She may already be somewhere else", he added to himself. BB8 asked him a question to which Poe replied firmly: "No BB8! I refuse to believe that she's dead! "

He continued his search, skimming over the places one last time where he thought it was possible that she could be, but without success.

"Black team, report to me", he called into his comm.

"Black Two, nothing to report," said Snap.

"Black One, no Keloers, sir," Karé said.

"Black Three, nothing to report Black Leader," said Jessika in turn.

Poe sighed and his breath filled the speakers of his squadron. BB8 suddenly began to issue several frantic beeps.

"BB8 said me that he received a signal from Keloers: she's on planet Huk!" exclaimed Poe. "BB8 prepares flight coordinates and send them to all."

A few moments later, they disappeared into space, toward planet Huk.


End file.
